White Black
by VanillaMostly
Summary: Several stories peeking in Misora Naomi's life... :D tribute! slight L x Misora implied
1. Subway Station

**takes up right from the ending of Another Note: The Los Angeles BB Murder Case. ;) **

**Disclaimer: do not own**

* * *

><p>Ch1: Subway Station<p>

_Naomi Misora had asked his name._

_The young man nodded._

_And answered._

_"Please call me Ryuzaki," he said, unperturbed._

Naomi was EXTREMELY creeped out.

Still, even though part of her was tempted to run away screaming because Beyond Birthday or Rue Ryuzaki seemed to have come after her for revenge as a ghost - the practical side of Naomi reminded her that this could not be. BB was still in the hospital, not even halfway recovered from his severe burned wounds. She knew because she had called the people in charge at least a million times to make sure. And anyway, she had seen to it that BB would be under heavy surveillance 24/7. So unless he was Superman in addition to a crazed psychopath, or really a ghost, he would not be standing in front of her.

And - thirdly, it was obvious that even though this mysterious young man looked a lot like BB... there were differences. Not just the physical ones (sharper jaw, thinner lips, paler skin) but, somehow, an air about him. Naomi couldn't put her finger on it but it was there.

This was the original, not the copy...

"L?" Naomi whispered.

The young man nibbled his thumb. Naomi winced, she couldn't help it. When he did things like that she half-expected him to strip off his face like a mask and reveal BB's horridly charred one. "Call me Ryuzaki," he said again.

"No," said Naomi firmly. "Definitely not, it makes me think of... the other one too much."

"The other what?" he asked, continuing to look at her with his strange intense stare.

Naomi just looked at him. He was playing with her. Right?

"You are mistaking me for someone else," said the young man, turning around. Naomi grabbed his shoulder, causing him to stumble. She had to steady him.

"So I don't know you?" Naomi narrowed her eyes. "Then explain to me why you just tried to assault me?"

"Assault? I was not aware that I was," he said, looking ever so innocent with his panda eyes and thumb in mouth.

"Uh-hmm," said Naomi. Fine, two can play that game. "I'm sorry, sir, but in that case I'm going to have to call an ambulance and have you taken to the nearest mental institution. I'm afraid only mentally unstable patients jump unsuspecting women and, afterwards, are unable to comprehend their actions."

The boy's eyes grew wider. Slightly.

"Come with me, please," smiled Naomi, reaching to grab his arm. However, her hands grabbed empty air. It was good that Naomi had quick reflexes. She threw her body back the same moment this mysterious stranger spun in the air and aimed his legs at Naomi... using the exact same move Naomi had used about five minutes ago.

His kick very narrowly missed. His shoes brushed through her hair, missing her cheek by an inch.

It had taken five years for Naomi to master that capoiera move, and this stranger - five minutes.

"You _are _L," said Naomi as she straightened up.

L - because she knew without a doubt now, it was him - straightened up also, a very ho-hum expression on his face as if he hadn't just thrown a martial arts move in her face. One he copied from her, no less. "I am Ryuzaki. I really don't know what you mean."

Naomi was still trying to get over her shock. So this man is the undefeatable, genius detective L. How ironic that a week before, she only managed to catch BB before he killed himself because the thought of Ryuzaki being L was so, so ridiculous she never even considered it.

That was because a slouchy guy who appeared to be only in his early twenties, with bed hair and rumpled clothes like a homeless person, was the farthest from the image she'd constructed of L. She always imagined him to be more of a Sherlock Holmes-looking type (but this, she realized, was pretty stereotypical).

"What's so funny?" asked L curiously.

"Nothing," she said, wiping off her smirk. This was her boss she was facing, after all. "It's a pleasure meeting you... er, Ryuzaki-san. And I'm sorry about kicking you before. I thought you were a pervert." Naomi thought, too late, that maybe she shouldn't have said the last part.

L remained expressionless. "It's quite easy for strangers to misunderstand each other."

"We are not strangers," said Naomi, exasperated. "Not unless your name being Ryuzaki - and your strong resemblance to another person I... knew - are coincidences."

"Ryuzaki is a common name, Misora-san," said L.

"You just called me Misora-san," pointed out Naomi. "I don't recall giving you my name." Got you now, thought Naomi smugly.

"I know. That is why I simply read it off from here." To her horror, L dangled something in front of her by the fingers.

Her wallet. With her ID picture staring back at her.

"When did you -?" gasped Naomi, snatching it back. "I could have you arrested!"

"It fell when you kicked me," said L, blinking. "I only picked it up."

Naomi stared at him, at a loss for words. She couldn't tell if she was feeling annoyed, angry, amused, or all three.

"Well, it is late, I should go," said L for the umpteenth time. Naomi realized that maybe L really did have somewhere to go. He must have fifty bajillion cases waiting at home, or wherever he worked. She felt suddenly guilty.

"Have a safe trip, Ryuzaki-san." She reached out a hand to shake. Although bowing was probably more appropriate, she was used to handshakes after living in the States for so long.

L didn't move, just looked down at her hand. After a moment it began to feel really awkward. Naomi slowly retracted her hand. _Ok, you don't want to shake then..._

"Can we hug?" said L.

Naomi stopped. "What?"

"I'd like to hug you instead," said L.

Another awkward silence. Naomi was beginning to be aware of just how public this place was. A subway station, for God's sake! In broad daylight! With so many people coming and going, because that's right, they were still standing on the stairs.

And he wanted a hug.

She was really concerned for L's sanity.

Or maybe he really was a pervert.

"Um, I..."

"Please."

Those large dark-rimmed eyes looked at hers blankly. She couldn't read what he was thinking at all. Though he really did look harmless... He looked like the type who never even talked to a woman before... or ever had a hug... Maybe he was just curious.

(Though if he even tries to touch her boobs, she would beat him to a pulp, decided Naomi. There were still a lot of capoiera moves that L hasn't learned yet.)

"Alright," said Naomi slowly. She moved in for the weirdest hug of her life.

She put her arms around him and awkwardly patted his hunched back. L's messy hair tickled her cheek and she wondered if he ever washed it. It didn't feel that greasy so hopefully that meant he did. L didn't put his arms around her so it was even more awkward because it was like hugging a tree. She heard him breathe in deeply. His breath tickled her neck.

"Watermelon," he said.

Naomi moved back. "Excuse me?"

"Watermelon," repeated L. "That's the soap you use."

"Uh... I guess," said Naomi. She never really paid attention to what her soap smelled like. As long as it was soap and it was cheap, she bought it.

"Mystery solved," said L. Without another word he turned and climbed up the stairs. Naomi watched him leave, feeling more bewildered than ever. Was that why he leapt out at her earlier and tried to throw his arms around her? So he could SMELL her?

She ended up getting to work fifteen minutes late, earning a reprimand from the director (though it was half-hearted because she did just put a serial killer in prison). She wasn't too bothered; as long as she got her badge and gun back she was fine with anything.

As she walked to her desk she passed Raye, who smiled and leaned over to whisper, "You can tell me the truth... why were you late?"

Naomi wasn't paying that much attention. She had already spotted the amount of paperwork sitting on her desk and she was none too pleased.

"I met a friend," she said without thinking.

When she registered what she said, she had to laugh. "Friend" was a weird way to describe L.

Oh well.


	2. Marriage

Marriage

Everyone in the world seemed to think it was about time for Naomi to get married.

Except for Naomi herself.

She was 27 years old. She had dated her boyfriend for two years, and they were even living together. Her friends thought she was crazy for telling Raye she "would think about it" when he proposed that 4th of July. "He's got money, he's young, he's hot, and he's mad in love," they said, ticking off their fingers. "What is wrong with you?"

Her parents offered no less refreshing advice.

"Oh, how exciting," said her mother. "Our daughter getting married! I approve, honey. That child Ronald- "

"Raye," corrected Naomi.

"- he is wonderful."

"His side will be paying for the wedding right?" said her father. "Joking, joking."

Naomi didn't tell anyone just why she was stalling on her answer. Because she knew if she did, all anyone's going to do is scream, "Well all the more reason you should get married!"

Raye had said, right before he proposed, that it was time she quit the FBI.

"I'm worried about you," he'd said. And while Naomi smiled on the outside, inside she was burning with rage.

Though she knew he had a point. On the last case, she nearly got shot in the head.

They had been zoning in on a major drug dealing case. It was big. And Naomi, well, she did what she tended to do a lot: act impulsively on her own. Add in a bit of bad luck, and she found herself face to face with a 22 caliber pistol.

She kicked her attacker in the face, a millisecond before he pulled the trigger. The bullet missed her brain - but it still hit her.

She got shot in the arm, thankfully, nothing major, and the bust still succeeded - her little gamble actually helped in the end. But of course people at work made a big deal out of it. "You could've gotten killed, you could've screwed up the whole operation, you went against orders," etc.

And Raye, of course he was the biggest advocate of the first part: "You could've gotten killed." Naomi should find it sweet of him to be so protective. Instead, she found it annoying and whiny.

There was definitely something wrong with her.

Naomi sighed, flopping onto the couch. She had just woken up and taken a shower even though it was only 5 in the morning. Lately she couldn't sleep very well because of all the stress surrounding this dilemma, she was even getting headaches. She knew everyone was right, Raye was right, and she was the one acting silly and stubborn. Naomi was aware of the risk that came with this job and her own tendency to put her life in danger. While she herself was not that afraid of death, she didn't want to leave her parents childless and devastated when they were already in their fifties.

And, yes, Raye too. She knew he loved her very much. And she did love him. Aside from his "I don't want you to get hurt" crap.

She really had to admire Raye for his patience though. She'd kept him waiting for 2 months and not once had he pestered her to hurry up with her "thinking." Although this might be because he assumed she'd come around eventually. Naomi tried to picture his face if she were to say "no" after all this anticipation. Somehow she didn't think it'd be pretty.

It was just, did she want to quit work or not?

(Easy question. No.)

Why did that and marriage have to go hand in hand anyway? But to Raye it did. He said he wouldn't want his wife going around getting shot at everyday. Naomi could not understand. She refrained from saying that, um, she liked going around getting shot at everyday. The adrenaline, the payoff... that's what what made her job so fun.

Maybe HE was the one who couldn't understand.

Her laptop beeped at that moment, interrupting her thoughts. She sat up, confused, then realized it was alerting her that she had a new email.

She glanced down the hall towards the bedroom, listening for movements, but Raye seemed to be still asleep. He was a deep sleeper. Naomi moved closer to the screen, squinting at the name of the sender.

R-y-u-z-a-k-i.

Her eyes grew as wide as saucers. No way! L?

She hadn't talked to him in ages. Last time they did was probably in January, when he sent an email asking her about the verdict of Beyond Birthday's murder trial. In fact, after he left LA last September, that email about BB was the only one he sent her.

Still, Naomi clicked the email without hesitation. She didn't know why, but when it came to L she was as obedient as a mouse. She couldn't help but respect him, even if he could be a total creep and weirdo.

The email, like L's previous one, was short and to the point.

_I'd like you to help me with another case._

That's it, no other information? Naomi shook her head. So like L. She clicked reply and began to type, _Sure, what is it_

Suddenly, her stomach lurched and a thick wave of nausea swept over Naomi. She ran to the bathroom just in time to throw up into the toilet.

Did I eat something bad? she grimaced, wiping her mouth. She tried to recall if she did. But even as she did so, something about this was too familiar...

A dull thumping appeared in Naomi's chest. She'd been an idiot. Today was September 14th. She hadn't even noticed, because she'd been so busy, but the last time she had her period was... late July.

Her mouth went dry. She sat down on the toilet. Her headaches. Morning sickness. The signs were all there. She knelt down and dug into the back of the cabinet. There was a box of pregnancy tests she'd bought years ago, the last time she'd suspected she was pregnant and was proven correct.

That was way before she'd even met Raye. She didn't even remember the guy's face anymore, just knew he was younger, still in college, a slacker. She broke up with him when she caught him cheating. He moved before she found out, didn't leave behind a phone number or address, and it wasn't like she really wanted to go to him for help anyway, when it happened. At that time Naomi was busy applying for FBI, pulling late shifts at the police station where she worked. Single mother. She couldn't do it.

So she had an abortion. She wasn't proud of it.

Since then Naomi had pushed the incident to the back of the mind, marking it as part of the past. She'd been so careful since then.

But now it happened again.

She put her hand to her mouth when the pink plus sign appeared. Raye was still sleeping in the next room. She imagined telling him. He'd be ecstatic. He was that kind of guy. What had he said when he proposed? "We can finally start a family together."

Oh, God.

She rose and went to the living room, where the email she was writing to L was waiting patiently. Naomi finished her reply and sent it.

By the time Raye awoke, Naomi was standing by the balcony. "You're up early," smiled Raye.

"Raye," said Naomi, turning around. "I'm done thinking. And the answer is yes."

"Really?" Raye squeezed her tight and spun her around. "So you're - serious? You'll quit the FBI?"

Naomi paused for a fraction of a second. "Yes," she said.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I've always felt soooo sorry for Naomi. She works so hard to be an FBI agent and only two years later she has to give that up for MARRIAGE? So unfair. The injustice. That's why I believe there's more to it then RAYE or LOVE. Nothing can prevent Naomi from continuing her work until retirement age (37) except... a pregnancy.**

**If you ask me, it is so unfair and stupid that Raye refuses to let his wife work as an FBI agent. It is so sexist. There are plenty of other FBI agents out there who get married or pregnant and go on maternity leave and all that, AND come back and remain FBI agents. WTF! **

**Ok. rant over. xD**


	3. Revenge

Revenge

"We found your fiancé."

Now when Naomi first heard that, she thought it was really funny. You found Raye? But he's not missing!

But then it wasn't so funny anymore. Or funny at all.

Raye Penber was dead. Everyone was all pity and sympathy and sadness. Poor thing, she was going to get married. How tragic. Who could've seen this coming.

They didn't even know half of it, though.

Naomi was pregnant. She was nearing the end of her second trimester, and her bump was starting to show, though hardly noticeable under her motorcycle jacket. The baby would grow up without a father. The father didn't even know of its existence when he died.

Yes, it's weird that he didn't even know. But Naomi was good at hiding it, and it wasn't that difficult since Raye was still busy as ever as an FBI agent and then a newly appointed Kira investigator. Naomi wasn't sure why she didn't tell him. For sure it wouldn't change anything, except maybe Raye would want to rush into the wedding, or else prevent her from going to Japan with him. Naomi tried to tell herself those weren't the reasons. But who knows.

She just wanted to live a little longer as Misora Naomi, not mother-to-be Mrs. Penber, she supposed.

So as it was, when Raye Penber died Naomi was the only one who knew about the baby in her stomach. Her parents called but didn't object when she told them, in a cold and robotic voice, to leave her alone. Her fiancé had after all just passed away.

In that matter Naomi knew another thing that others didn't. Raye didn't pass away. He was murdered.

Call her dramatic, call her driven mad by grief, but Naomi just knew this was true. The physical evidence was all there that Raye died by cardiac arrest - end of the story. But Naomi didn't buy it. For things to happen as simply as they did there would have to be too many coincidences.

Naomi didn't believe in coincidences.

And so, with her ex-FBI senses kicking back in, Naomi donned her jacket and set out to get to the bottom of this murder case. You see, killing her fiancé has made this fight personal. Naomi wasn't going to wait around for Kira to be caught. She deserved answers. Her child deserved answers. And those weren't the answers the coroner had offered.

It wasn't until later did she realize how naive she had been.

She had thought she knew enough, or guessed enough, about Kira.

She had thought she was careful enough.

She had thought her intuition was good enough.

And her biggest mistake: she had not understood that there was only one person in the world whom she could trust - not two, not three. And she should have gone to him and only him.

But by the time she realized all this, it was too late.


	4. Death

Death

"It seems that my dad called back. Want to talk to him?"

Was there something she had to say? Naomi couldn't remember. No, there must be nothing to remember.

Naomi walked away from the boy unsteadily. (And who was that boy? Did she know him?) No, she mustn't be distracted.

Because, she was going to kill herself.

She did not question this. It was the clearest thought running through her mind at the moment. She felt like she would simply fall into nothingness if she didn't grab onto it.

Which was why it was so damn annoying that a voice kept interrupting her.

It seemed to be screaming but it sounded muffled, like it came from behind a thick piece of glass.

"Don't do it... turn around... you have to live..."

Naomi looked around but there was no one she could see talking to her. She must be hallucinating.

She brushed the voice away. Be quiet, she thought, I don't have time for this. I have a task I must do.

"But the baby, my baby..."

Baby? Something was tugging at Naomi. Was there a baby? The image of a baby swam in front of her. But it was hard to concentrate on it. There was a lot of fog.

Naomi bumped into someone, and she blinked, collecting herself. What was she thinking again?

Oh, yes, she had to find a place that only she knew.

Then she would kill herself.

The baby, a voice stirred feebly from some far-away place.

Naomi's head hurt. It felt like her brain was splitting.

Stop - _don't forget, your baby _- shut up - _but Kira - _a place no one else knows - _tell someone_ - I have to kill myself - _**go to L!**_

The last phrase was screamed so loudly Naomi covered her ears and fell to her knees.

She squeezed her eyes shut, but there was someone there. He was slouching. A head of wacky black hair. Panda eyes. He was biting his thumb. Looking at her with a strange intense stare, he opened his mouth, lips forming words -

Say it louder! I can't hear you!

He was walking towards her, growing larger and larger, he was inches away from her -

What was he saying?

...

"Excuse me, miss?"

Naomi looked up. A small crowd of people had gathered around her. Others walking by craned their necks to stare and then whispered behind their hands as they went away.

"Are you ok?" a man asked hesitantly. He looked nervous, almost scared of her.

Where was she? What was she doing? Naomi must be dreaming. No, she felt more like she woke up from one. She had a feeling it was an important dream, but the harder she tried to recall it the faster it slipped away, like water.

Then she remembered. And relief flooded through her.

"I'm fine," she told the man who asked. Ignoring his outstretched hand, she got up and brushed off her pants, as well as the moist water that had appeared on her cheeks and tinged her eyelashes for some reason.

There was no time to waste. She had somewhere to go. Something to do.

And she had to do it within the next 48 hours.

Naomi kept on walking.

She was glad that her head finally stopped hurting.


	5. L

L

1.

L left the subway station and returned to where Watari waited with the car.

"So how did it go?" asked Watari, though he didn't expect an answer.

"Good," said L.

He decided he would like to work with her again. So he could learn some more capoiera.

::

2.

The email was short:

_I'm sorry Ryuzaki. I'll be quitting work soon as I am engaged_.

L was disappointed in her.

She wasn't the woman he thought she was.

He guessed that was the power of love. Not that he'd ever know.

He wiped the name Misora Naomi off the database stored in his mind.

::

3.

So Raye Penber was the man she was getting married to.

It made sense. They were close back when L recruited her for the BB murder case.

"She must have been devastated by Raye's death... suicide."

L didn't miss a beat. "No," he said.

That's not the kind of woman Misora Naomi was.

Her person had disappeared, but funnily enough, L found out her spot in his database hadn't completely.

::

4.

L sat squatting in front of the monitor, chewing his thumb.

There was a news article on the screen.

The headline ran, "Mystery body discovered in Y River."

L scrolled down so he could skim the rest. "Nov 2, fishermen of X Village found corpse floating near river bank... Autopsy review concluded victim to be Asian female, 6 months pregnant, age 20-30 years... No identification found... Death caused by gunshot to head... State of decomposition suggests victim to have been dead for some time... Body not yet identified... Description does not match any missing person in the area... Under investigation..."

He continued to chew his thumbnail for a moment. Then he scrolled up again.

A caption accompanied a photo of a black leather jacket: "Found caught onto rocks 5 km upstream. However, it is uncertain if it belonged to the victim."

_6 months pregnant. So it can't be her._

It can't be her.

"Ryuzaki. Ryuzaki, are you listening?"

L closed the browser.

"As I was saying," said Yagami Light with a sigh. "About Kira..."

*END*

**or not...**


	6. Afterlife

**I couldn't resist. *forgive me***

* * *

><p>Afterlife<p>

Naomi awoke to a white room. (It's always a white room, I don't know why). The room was empty and Naomi couldn't see any doors. She was lying on a white cot, and wearing a white gown, like those you wear in hospitals.

"Welcome to heaven," said a tiny voice.

Naomi glanced around and saw an angel. That's right, one of those baby male angels with the diaper and wings and everything. It looked more like a fairy though. It was small enough to fit into the palm of Naomi's hand. It looked bored.

"Uh, I'm sorry but...?"

"They're always confused at first," said the angel, rolling his eyes. "Yes, you're dead. Yes, heaven exists. Yes, I'm an angel. No, you're not dreaming."

"I'm dead," repeated Naomi. She experienced brain freeze as all of a sudden, memories rushed in her head.

"Remembering now?" said the angel, boredly. "I'm on a tight schedule today though, so let's try to wrap this up fast." He cleared his throat and consulted his VERY tiny clipboard. "Any last wishes or concern before you move on?"

"I thought I was already dead," said Naomi, blinking.

"You are," said the angel impatiently. "But you've gotta pass through this intermission room before you get to your afterlife. You know, eternal peace, happiness, that stuff."

"Oh."

"We're giving you one last chance to wrap up any unfinished business you have. So quick, shoot."

Naomi knew without hesitation. "I have to tell L about who Kira is."

"No," said the angel. "Revenge-related requests are not allowed."

"What?" That was the stupidest rule Naomi ever heard.

"Think," sighed the angel. "If everyone could somehow avenge their deaths then wouldn't the whole world be crazy now? Ghosts going around shooting humans in the head? And you'd be dead a couple times over," he added, looking at his clipboard.

Naomi, remembering the number of people she'd put in jail, nodded sheepishly. "Ok. Then..." She grew sad at her next thought. "Can I say bye to my parents?" She knew it was silly and impossible.

"Yup," said the angel, to her surprise.

"But how - " before Naomi could finish her sentence, the angel snapped his fingers and the room blurred.

::

Naomi blinked and looked around. She was no longer in a white room. No, she was in a very familiar room. She was in her parents' bedroom.

She looked down to see her mom and dad snoring softly. The angel poked her on the shoulder. "You have five minutes," he said, and zoomed out the room.

Naomi was glad for the privacy. She leaned forward, brushed her mother's hair. Touched her father's cheek. "Mom, dad," she said. "I have to say goodbye. I'm so sorry. I'm such a bad daughter."

She started to cry, which felt weird because she couldn't remember the last time she did so. Just then, the bed creaked and Naomi looked up with shock. Her mother had sat up and was looking around sleepily.

It doesn't matter, she can't see me, thought Naomi.

"Honey! Oh, it's you!" shrieked her mom.

Uh, so much for that.

Naomi looked in alarm for the angel. Did she break a rule? Was she supposed to be sent to hell now? Meanwhile her mom was squeezing her in a tight hug and Naomi's father woke up too from the commotion. "Naomi!" he said happily, hugging her too. "Where were you? You had us so worried!"

Naomi wanted to play along. She really did. But when she thought about where her corpse was lying and how long her parents would have to spend waiting for her to return, she knew what she had to do.

"No, dad," said Naomi. "I'm dead. You have to believe me. I killed myself. No - someone made me kill myself."

"What?" Her parents gaped at her.

"I know it sounds strange, but it's true! Look - there's an angel." But of course the stupid angel was nowhere to be seen. Naomi grabbed her mom's hand. "When you wake up in the morning I'll be gone, and maybe you won't even remember this, but - just know I love you two so much and you've been such great parents and please, give up on me. I died already. So move on with your lives, love each other, you know what - move to Poland where Aunt Yuko is. You can help her take care of her new granddaughter. Pretend that's me. I won't be coming back so - "

"Time's up," spoke a tiny voice next to her ear. Naomi tried to swallow down the lump in her throat. "Goodbye," she said.

Then the room blurred.

::

They were back in the white room. Naomi still couldn't stop crying. The angel handed her tissues, which was very nice of him since they were so big for him to carry.

"Thank you for that," she said, blowing her nose. "I'm glad I could talk to them, even if it wasn't any use."

"Oh, don't worry," said the angel, boredly returning to his clipboard. "It worked. They'll do what you said. Move on with their lives, love each other, move to Poland, whatever."

"Then - you mean they really could see me?"

"Of course," said the angel, staring at her like she was retarded.

"But won't they wake up and think it was all a dream and - "

"Yeah, duh. But your words were imprinted into their minds. You think we don't take your last requests seriously?" grumbled the angel. "Anyway, now that we're done. Ready to go?"

"Wait," said Naomi. "Where exactly are we going? I mean, what is this... afterlife like?"

"I told you, eternal peace, eternal - "

"Yes, but," Naomi couldn't push the question out of her mind,"What if I don't like it?"

The angel stared at her. "What if you don't like it?"

Naomi nodded. "I mean," she said, clarifying herself, "What your idea - or God's idea, or whoever is running this thing - of heaven might not be the same as mine."

The angel stared at her some more. Then he glanced back at his clipboard. "Ah, I see," he said with clear annoyance.

"Huh?"

"Stop worrying," sighed the angel, "you're not gonna end up spending eternity with that fiancé of yours, Raye whatshisface."

"Penber," said Naomi automatically. "I never said I - "

"Here, it's much easier to just show you," interrupted the angel. He snapped his fingers.

::

The room blurred again. When Naomi opened her eyes this time, she saw she was yet again in a familiar room. The apartment she was living in with Raye, to be exact, before they went to Japan and died.

"... smells so good, Naomi."

Naomi wasn't sure what freaked her out more: the mention of her name or the voice who spoke it.

She turned around, walked towards the dining room, and what she saw made her freeze in her tracks.

"Raye?"

Indeed, her fiancé - dead fiancé - was sitting at the table, reading a newspaper, his jacket folded neatly on his chair. He looked the same as ever with his combed hair and folded legs. "Oh look Naomi, I'm in the paper."

Naomi started to walk over to see what he was talking about, but froze in her tracks - again - when suddenly, someone else bounded out of the kitchen.

It was a woman, with long dark hair just like Naomi's, pants that looked awfully like the same ones Naomi owned, shirt... Ok, everything about her was exactly like Naomi... except the face.

The woman had no face.

Naomi screamed. However, Raye and the woman just ignored her.

"Let me see, Raye," crooned the woman sweetly. "Oh! Wow!" the faceless woman squealed, jumping up and down as she looked down at the article Raye was pointing to. "My Raye-Raye is in the paper for catching all the bad guys! You're amazing, darling!"

Naomi felt a little sick.

"It's nothing," said Raye modestly. He put away the paper and smiled at the faceless woman. "Is dinner ready yet, dear?"

"It is, honey. That's right, do you want me to take your suit to the dry cleaning today?"

"Tomorrow is fine. But my shoes are - "

"Don't you mention it Raye, I'll shine them tonight right after dinner." The faceles woman went back to the kitchen. "I made your favorite, pork chops and roasted turkey!"

'You're a doll, Naomi," smiled Raye.

Naomi stared at him incredulously. "Raye, what are you saying, SHE's not Naomi, I am! What is - "

"Don't even bother," the tiny voice spoke behind Naomi. She turned to see the angel shaking his head, arms crossed. "C'mon, I'll explain it to you after we leave. I can't stand hearing any more of this sugary sweet talk for another second."

::

The room blurred.

"What you just saw," said the angel when they were back in the white room, "was your fiancé's heaven."

Naomi frowned. "HIS heaven?"

"Yep," answered the angel. "You all have your own heavens here. Some can be very different from others, obviously. It's catered to each individual's wants and needs after all."

"And Raye wants and needs some kind of faceless - _robot_ woman? With MY name?"

"You still don't get it," huffed the angel. "That woman IS you. Or supposed to be you, anyway, according to Raye's fantasy world. She doesn't have a face because she doesn't need one."

Naomi shuddered involuntarily.

"You're the one who picked him, not me," muttered the angel.

Naomi tried not to feel insulted. "Ok, so Raye's not going to be in my heaven," she said, getting back to the subject.

"Right. You getting it now?"

"Kind of," nodded Naomi. "Each person is placed into an environment that will make him or her the happiest. That's their heaven, isn't it? And it's all based on what they subconsciously want, so no one will get disappointed or angry."

"Yay," said the angel drily, pretending to applaud.

"Alrighty then," said Naomi, taking a deep breath. "I'm ready."

The angel breathed in relief and raised his fingers to snap -

"Wait!" cried Naomi.

He groaned.

"Sorry," Naomi grimaced. "I forgot. One more question, ok? I promise."

"Humans," the angel said under his breath.

"Since Raye's not in my heaven... does that mean I won't get to see anyone else there? Anyone else I knew from, you know, real life?"

"I didn't say that," shrugged the angel.

"Then if - "

"No more questions," said the angel. "You said it." He gave her a smirk and - snap. The room blurred, one last time.

::

Naomi was standing on a beach. The sea was a turoquoise blue. The sand was soft and white, and she could see some sand castles. She felt kind of embarrassed. This was her idea of the happiest place? How old was she, four?

The angel wasn't around to give snide remarks, though. Naomi remembered his impatient face and guessed his job with her was done; he was moving on to other 'clients' now, guiding them to their afterlives.

She looked down and realized she was no longer wearing the white smock from before but a grey tank and white comfy shorts. Naomi laid down on the sand and stretched. Well, this wasn't too bad. A little boring, but still ok.

Just as she thought that, she heard footsteps running in her direction. Naomi raised herself up on her elbows, squinting.

"Mom!"

She had barely a moment to register what the voice said when someone, literally, jumped on her. Naomi was alarmed, but the next second she was hugging that person back like there was no tomorrow (and technically, there wasn't). She found herself choking back a sob.

The person let go and Naomi leaned back. "...Baby?" she whispered.

In front of her stood a little boy, with skinny arms and legs but chubby cheeks, looking to be around five or six years old. He was grinning cheekily at her. "Hi Mom," he said.

"Mommy?"

Naomi started in shock as she realized there was another person in her presence. She looked down to see small, dainty hands clasping hers. Those hands belonged to the most beautiful little girl she'd ever seen. She was still a toddler, with large round eyes and a shy smile.

Naomi looked at her, speechless. She looked back at the boy. No, it wasn't just a boy. She suddenly understood.

It was her son. And the girl, her daughter.

Naomi began to cry for the second time in a row. "Mommy," the baby girl said, "Are you sad?"

"No, no," said Naomi. She reached over and pulled these children that she never knew close, burying her face in their soft hair. They smelled like baby powder and the ocean and - her.

Finally.

Naomi was in heaven.

* * *

><p><strong>I know it's ridiculous, but nope, it's STILL not over.<strong>


	7. 11 months later

**I swear! Last time. lol**

11 months later...

It was 11 months later, but of course Naomi didn't know this. Time in her heaven passed without anything to mark it. So even though it did pass, she didn't feel it and she didn't notice. In Naomi's heaven, it was always summertime, always sunny, though with the occasional rainfall.

Naomi discovered that her heaven wasn't limited to just the beach, either. There was a weathered, blue-colored little house, a motorcycle (her old one from when she was alive, actually, or at least a prototype of it), and a very small town a mile or two away. There, she met other people, not all of them strangers. She was shocked to run into her grandfather and kindergarten teacher on her third trip there. They explained to her that the town was an overlap of many heavens. People who can access this town, they said, would get too bored if it didn't exist. That's why it was there.

It made a lot of sense to Naomi. She was definitely the kind of person who would die (again) from boredom and loneliness if she spent eternity with only a six-year-old and three-year-old, even if they were the most charming children ever. They, too, liked the town as there were many kids there. It made Naomi a little sad to think why that was. But at least, this was heaven. And it really wasn't too bad, not at all.

On this day, Naomi rode her motorcycle to town. Her kids were playing back at the beach. They were very content children, happy and easily amused. It was probably because they were born in heaven.

In town, Naomi waved at the people on the street as she pulled to a stop and cut off the engine. She took off her helmet and shook free her hair. Grinning happily at the sign above that marked "DOJO", she pushed open the doors and entered.

Naomi felt so incredibly grateful that such a place existed in heaven. As all places in heaven, though, it existed simply because there were people who wanted and needed it to exist. Those people were karate fighters, wrestlers, boxers, many of them pros, who either died young or died old but whose passion for the sport lasted till their graves. I want to say Bruce Lee is one of them but heaven is pretty big, so you really don't know.

There weren't as many women there, but it didn't mean there weren't any. And here in heaven no one cared whether you were male or female. No one got permanently hurt, ever - bruises and injuries always healed instantaneously - so strength didn't matter. Your skill did.

"Hey," nodded several men when Naomi entered. Naomi had skill, and she was respected for that.

She began stretching in a corner.

"Good, Naomi, you're here," a guy, let's call him Rick, said as he walked over. "Someone's been looking for you."

"Oh, ok," said Naomi, continuing to stretch. "Who is it?"

"Don't know," said Rick. "New guy."

Naomi stared at him, bewildered. "He's new here? Then why'd he ask for me?" Even if Naomi was pretty good, she wasn't the best or anything. She couldn't see why a rookie would come to her for a fight or whatever.

"No idea," shrugged Rick. "He didn't say. But he came here yesterday and asked about you. No one's seen him before, so he must be a new one."

By "new one" Rick meant the person had recently just died and entered heaven. Naomi frowned. Why would someone who just died come looking for her? Unless...

"Strange fellow, too," said Rick, pulling on his boxing gloves. "Walked really weird. And even though he's no little kid he sucks his thumb even when he's talking."

Naomi stopped stretching. "What was his name?"

"I asked, but then he turned and left..." Rick scratched his goatee. "That's right, there was a white-haired old man waiting outside for him. He was probably a new one too, come to think of it. Did you know some rich dude when you were alive? 'Cause it looked like he's got himself a butler or something."

Naomi pushed herself up to her feet. "Where is he right now?"

"Who knows? He really didn't say anything except ask for you.."

Naomi nodded thanks and turned on her heel. It can't be him, she thought. After all, if he was here it would mean he died. Which was impossible. Probably a coincidence that this new guy looked so much like him. It wouldn't be the first time...

She pushed open the door, lost in thought, which was why she didn't notice someone was standing on the other side. The door hit them straight in the face and the person rocketed backwards, landing with a soft thud on the ground.

"Yikes, I'm so sorry!" Naomi quickly reached out a hand to help the person up.

That was when she noticed the jeans.

The plain long-sleeved shirt.

The hair.

"Oh," gasped Naomi. She glanced around and saw, not far away, a white-haired gentleman of her grandfather's age standing quietly on the other side of the street. He met her gaze and winked.

"No way," breathed Naomi, turning back to the person still lying on the ground. The guy wasn't unconscious but he hadn't moved from his spot; it was almost as if he thought this was a good opportunity to take a nap.

"_L_?" Naomi whispered.

The young man glanced up, his eyes barely visible behind his shaggy dark hair. Slowly, very slowly, he took Naomi's outstretched hand and got up to his feet. Naomi saw he wasn't wearing any shoes. Or socks.

"Please call me Ryuzaki," he said.

END

**And I mean it this time**


End file.
